


Unfinished MeenKar

by MaK



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Tentabulges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:39:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaK/pseuds/MaK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blowjobs during movies</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfinished MeenKar

Karkat watches the show with little interest, occasionally coming to stroke at the base of your horns as you nuzzle your cheek against his warm thigh. The host, a rather bland oliveblood, is going on about this and that revolving around the delicate topic of how lusi spawn and what their reproduction cycle is like. Quite honestly, you stopped giving a fuck about the tv after the Betty Crocker program and have tuned into the nice feeling of Karkat's claws lightly waving over your scalp. Your purr is somewhat noisy and your matesprit snorts quietly as you begin to croon and turn your head so he scratches at the skin below your fins. 

"You're worse than a meowbeast," he mumbles. Unlike you, he finds himself most relaxed when not in action. The contrast is apparent as you're practically rolling over his legs despite the feeling of reassurance resting lightly and strongly on your shoulders. 

A smile grows larger on your cheeks as you notice the warmth radiating from the warm blood on his legs gets more intense as you, somewhat unintentionally, rub your cheek and the side of your horn against his groin. Not unintentionally, you nuzzle into his inner thigh and breathe in the musky scent that is him. 

"Meenah?" Karkat mumbles, his cheeks growing redder. 

"Yeah, sweet catch?" He doesn't quite get that pun. Describing him as a big fish to an eager fisher didn't quite suit him. You don't quite care to explain the part where you were surprised he was single. 

He's getting somewhat antsy, which you've learned signals his nervousness and want to abscond. You continue to force your weight on him, grinning a bit with your intentions. "What are you doing?" 

"I love how naive you are," you wink. 

"Fuck you." He snorts out his nose and you nudge your nose against the bulge in his jeans. "What I'm asking is why." 

"I dig you," you reply, shrugging. Your arms come to hug his waist. 

"Why?" 

"'Cuz you're cool." 

It means more to him than it would to anyone, but it's just another thing you find cute, and you find it ever cuter as his blush and nervousness grows as you unzip his jeans. "Fucking Christ," he mumbles. 

"Chill, chill," you tell him, running the flat of your tongue over the outline in his boxers. 

There's a pause where he takes in a sharp breath and blows out his tension, falling limp beneath you in the best way. "You're chill," he says. "Fucking freezing."

You would apologize but you're awful busy at the moment. He whines your name a few times as you start to make the fabric cling to his bulge with your saliva. Grinning, you sit up just a little so you can take away his trousers and watch with mild interest as the red appendage rolls against Karkat's thigh, trying in vain to rid itself of the cold your tongue left there. It stills for a moment once your grasp it, but it squirms as your hold becomes more firm. You glance up to Karkat, grinning as his face glows red and his eyes, deceptively calm, look down at his hand. 

"Really cold," he sighs. 

Your fingers spread around his bulge and slick his genetic material over the skin, running your tongue over the tip to taste the sweet, tart taste of it. You feel him flex and contract in nervousness, but eventually he sighs and rolls his hips. Above you, he's still staring down at his fingers as he tries to ignore his body and pay attention to you. You grab that hand and put it next to your horn, which immediately causes him to blubber out some profanities as you begin to put your tongue into play more frequently. 

He quiets down save for quiet whines and small huffs. You keep your teeth in mind as you work his bulge, swirling your tongue and slowly bringing him farther into your throat. Occasionally, he'll mutter out how cold it is or how awesome you are. You thank him by running your fingertips over his nook, which is glazed in a bright red you may be obsessed with.


End file.
